


Sometimes She's Pushy

by betawho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4356242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/pseuds/betawho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a lady just needs a hug. It's a bit disturbing when it's River...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes She's Pushy

She was the pushiest woman. But sometimes the only way she pushed, was into his arms. 

The Doctor stood with his arms full of River Song, her arms tight around his waist, her face snugged in his neck.

He let his arms wrap around her. Truly, that was one of their favorite places to be. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked. As pushy and straightforward and full of innuendo as River could be, she didn’t normally just shove herself into his arms and hang on. She tended to _entice_ him. She loved the chase, but she preferred to be the pursued. 

He grinned deep in his mind, because, in all honesty, he loved chasing her, not that he’d ever tell her that. 

But to have her just arrive and push herself into his arms, without so much as a “Hello, Sweetie,” or a snide remark, that was a bit troubling. 

She mumbled something he didn’t hear and nuzzled her face deeper into his neck. He could feel her hot lips forming words, but couldn’t make them out. He was a bit distracted, all those warm wiggling curves had that effect on him. 

He tightened his arms, if she needed reassurance (perish the thought, god knows what would cause that in _River_ ) or if she just needed someone to hold onto, he was there for her. He entirely wanted to be that person to her, her port in a storm. Heaven knew, she was his. 

He nuzzled his nose in her tickling curls. “Are you okay?” he whispered, his hot breath ruffling on the top of her head. 

She had arrived in her battle dress, but without guns blazing, so the situation could be anything. No elegant dress, so it wasn’t a hoity toi thing, no smoke and laser bombs, so it wasn’t Sontarans...

“I needed my Pookie Bear.”

His eyes almost bugged out at that clearly heard mumble. 

He considered fighting his way free of her arms at that _awful_ nickname.

He underwent a titanic struggle within himself. He was _not_ a Pookie Bear. That was horrid. He’d prefer almost any other designation. He was not someone’s cuddle toy. He was a Time Lord! He walked in eternity! He was a destroyer and saver of _worlds!_

His muscles tightened in rejection and he grabbed her arms, ready to push her back. 

She sighed, and rested forward, all those soft curves leaning so trustingly against him, she tilted her head down and tucked her forehead against his throat. 

“Life sucks,” she complained softly, almost inaudibley, in that cultured husky voice of hers, her breath warm on his chest. 

He could almost feel that full lower lip poofed out. 

He relaxed. Life wasn’t fair, and River knew that more than most, but she so rarely complained. She usually just blew stuff up. 

He slipped his arms back around her and snugged her in, she made a happy, sexy little noise. 

Okay, he _was_ impressive, and a legend. But then, so was she. 

He supposed he could be _her_ Pookie Bear.

—

* * *

_For more stories by this author click[here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/works)._  
_Please take a moment to leave a comment in the box below._


End file.
